


The Hardest of Blows

by coolbyrne



Series: In Time [4]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, knights and jousting and romance, oh my!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack and her Wingos need the help of a local blacksmith in 17th century England. Part of the 'In Time' series.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: In Time [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701886
Comments: 40
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so there is a major character death in this one. I almost didn't include the warning but I didn't want to be that person, you know? But part of why I didn't want to include it is because of the very nature of this series- we know they'll meet again, and we hope it will be better with each meeting. So is the death really a death? Anyway, I figured you deserved the warning.
> 
> As for the rest, a LOT of research went into this, from the prices during that time period to the armour worn to what kind of horse was used in jousting. I hope it adds as much to the story for you as it did for me! 
> 
> I will post the entire story at once, but in 3 chapters because of the length, so make sure you're reading from the beginning!

“You won’t be around here much longer, Daniel.”

The teen looked up from the forge, his face red with exertion and heat. Wiping the sweat away with the back of his lambskin glove, he grinned. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, sir. Besides, I’d say there’s more glory in being the apprentice of Gibbs the Blacksmith than being my own.”

He snorted. “Didn’t realize there was glory in the trade.” 

He couldn’t help the pride that bloomed as he watched the young man, 5 years into his apprenticeship, lifting the iron from the fire to examine the shape. If he was known in the area for his blacksmithing, Daniel was making his name as the best cutler. His knives were requested far and wide not only for their durability but their beauty. His attention to detail was something even Gibbs couldn’t replicate, now that his eyesight was leaving him.

He squeezed the bellow. “How’s that for heat?”

Daniel surveyed the requirements for his piece. “Perhaps a bit more charcoal. The iron is still not as malleable as I’d like.”

“Maybe you should just hit it harder.”

Both turned to the voice that had come from the side of their ¾ enclosed shop. A man approximating Gibbs’ height and size stepped inside with a grin.

“If I want to stand here all morning and risk overworking the iron, of course,” Daniel said, slightly offended.

Gibbs curbed him with a look and the apprentice went back to his work. 

“What can I do for you?” he asked the visitor. 

“Looking to get some work done,” the man said, looking around the shop at the various bits and bobs available.

“Figured that’s why someone steps into a smithy,” Gibbs replied.

The man pointed and smiled. “Very good.” He picked up a large iron ring and rotated it, examining it closely. “I can’t see the joint.”

“Guess that’s why I’m the best blacksmith in town.”

“The entire shire!” Daniel’s dismay at the visitor temporarily made way for his pride.

“Good,” the man said, still smiling. “I _did_ come to the right place.”

“Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, which you’ve yet to say.”

“Right, right. I’m looking for some armour.”

The casual way the man said it made Gibbs laugh. “Just like that? Armour. What kind of armour? A full piece? Helmet? Adjusted to size? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific-”

The way he trailed off encouraged the man to give his name.

“Hale. Raymond Hale. I’m looking for full jousting armour.” The cost and time involved was such that Daniel’s eyes went wide. “I know,” Hale said, seeing the look. “We can pay. Some. Though we were hoping we could rely on the grace of your charity and allow us to perhaps work the fields.”

“And enter the local jousting tournaments.”

Hale shrugged at Gibbs’ comment. “Obviously.”

“‘We’. Who’s ‘we’?”

“There are 4 of us; 3 men including myself, 1 woman.”

“Armour will cost you £20, 8 shilling.” He had hoped the price would make the man reconsider.

Instead, he nodded. “We know. We can pay you £15 now and the rest when we win the tournament next month.”

Daniel laughed out loud, and Gibbs held up his hand to stop the teen’s apology in its tracks. “Just like that?”

Hale either didn’t hear the sarcasm or didn’t care. “Just like that.”

Gibbs crossed his arms, contemplating the offer. Even the £15 would be almost 3 weeks worth of work. The idea of using the money to forward Daniel’s career was more than tempting, and it was what made him ask, “Where’s the rest of your party?”

“Just down the road. Setting up a small camp just in case you said ‘no’.”

“Well, I haven’t said ‘yes’. Let’s go.” To Daniel’s disappointment, he said, “You stay here. Finish that up.”

“Sir-”

Gibbs took a sword off the hook. “I’ll be fine.” His forearm, sinewy and hard from years of blacksmithing flexed in the forge’s light. “Right?”

Hale caught the not-so-subtle threat. “Yes, sir. I mean, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

…..

It didn’t take long for him to see the small gathering a half mile from the road. A smoke billow guided them the rest of the way, and three faces turned at their arrival. In his many years, he had seen all manner of faces- pale, dark, ruddy and mysterious complexions of people from far away lands. But he had never seen such a variety gathered in one spot. He looked at the man who brought him.

“Right. Everyone, this is the blacksmith Gibbs.”

He frowned. “How’d you know my name?”

“Your apprentice was right,” Hale said. “Your reputation precedes you.” Continuing with his introductions, he pointed to the dark man. “Samuel King. The foreigner beside him is Safwan Anshiri.” The way he said ‘foreigner’ made Gibbs believe it was a kind of regular joke between them. “And the fair maiden is Jacqueline Sloane, French by name, English by birth.” 

Gibbs tilted his head. “My lady.”

The three men hooted at the address, but their revelry was cut short by both Gibbs’ glare and her raised hand. 

“You heathens could take a few lessons on how to treat a woman.” She looked at Gibbs and bowed her head. “Thank you. And it’s ‘Jack’. I mean, ‘Jack’ is just fine.”

He nodded, and pleasantries aside, returned his attention back to Hale. “So the armour?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna have to see half the money now.”

“The £10 or the £7 half?”

Gibbs looked at him with an even gaze. “Whichever, though I’d prefer the 10.”

The woman held out her hand to the men, and wordlessly, they each gave their share of 10, which she then handed to Gibbs. The man introduced as Anshiri made his objection known. 

“We’re just going to give it to him?”

“He’s good and he’s trustworthy,” she said. “You think I’d seek him out if I didn’t think I could trust him?”

The way she singled herself out made Gibbs quirk an eyebrow, but he tried to focus on the work rather than the woman.

“A full set. Which one of you men are wearin’ it?” They all looked at each other, but Gibbs didn’t catch on. “I need measurement before I can start anything. So you?” He pointed at Hale, who averted his gaze. “You?” King did the same. “Well, I know it’s not you,” he said to Anshiri. “He might be able to get away with it,” he said, jerking his head at King, “but there’s no way you could risk gettin’ found out with that face.”

“And what exactly is wrong with my face?” Anshiri stepped forward until he was barely a paper’s width from an unwavering Gibbs.

“Well, you’re not exactly from around here, are ya?” He held the man’s stare with his own, until the foreigner burst out laughing.

“Oh, I like this one!”

Even Gibbs grinned. But the process of elimination caught up to him, directing his gaze to Jack. He could only imagine what the realization looked as it swept across his face.

“Oh no. No.” He reached into his pouch for the money. “Nope.”

Anshiri quickly stepped aside as Jack took his place. “Please, Mr. Gibbs. We’re just looking to buy some land and settle. Hale, in his indubitable way, has convinced a lord in Devonshire to let us ‘buy’ a small plot of land. We just need enough to start.”

“By ‘buying’, you mean he’s going to let you till the King’s land while profiting without the King’s knowledge.”

She tilted her head back and forth, then conceded. “Yeah, something like that. It’s a patch on the other side of the heath. We’ll be safe there.”

“Safe from what?”

The four friends glanced at each other. “A travelling band with a woman, a black man, an Indian and this guy?” Hale barked out a hearty laugh. “We’ve all got things that are dangerous to us.” She touched his arm, feeling the muscle flinch under her fingers. “Will you help us?”

He knew then he had no choice. Her brown eyes drew him in and her smile kept him there. Still, he tried one last deflection. “Why not him?” he asked in Hale’s direction.

“Me?” the man grinned. “I’m allergic to horses.”

…..

They returned as a group back to the forge and Daniel did a double-take when he saw Jack. Flustered at the appearance of a woman, he very nearly dropped his tongs.

“M-m-m’lady,” he offered.

Hale snorted but Anshiri slapped his shoulder. “Leave the lad alone.”

“Daniel,” Gibbs said, “see if you can round up some mead for our guests. We’ve still got some of the meat pie Mrs. Bennett gave us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Three plates, Daniel. The lady and I’ll be in shortly.”

The apprentice’s eyes widened, but he nodded and led the men out of the smithy towards the small cottage once Jack gave them an assuring nod of her own. Once the group was gone, Gibbs reached up to pull down the tapestry that covered the broad opening of the workshop, leaving them in the dim light left by the burning charcoal. He lit two torches from the flame and set them back in their iron holders in the corners. When he turned back to her, he caught something in her expression.

“I’m only preventing passersby from seein’ me measuring a woman. Not that we get many passersby here.”

“Ah,” she said, though a nervousness still lingered in her voice. “Am I going to have to disrobe?”

It had been years since he’d been with a woman, let alone as beautiful as the one standing in front of him, a decade since he’d seen a woman in anything less than the tunic and vest she was wearing. He dry swallowed.

“No,” he replied, privately proud at how nonchalant he sounded. “You’re gonna wear something underneath the armour anyway. Need to account for that.” He pulled out a string bundle from his pocket and directed her to hold her arms out to her sides.

As he began to measure her with the string, she noted, “You’re not writing this down.”

“Nope,” he agreed. “I’m gonna try to remember them all.”

His light sarcasm made her grin. “I see.” She tried to focus on her surroundings as he got to his knees to measure her legs. “You live a quiet life here.”

“Yep.”

“We’ve come blustering into it. You sure you don’t mind?”

“You’re offering me more money than I’d make in a month. And I need a break from makin’ nails.”

Her laugh filled the forge. “Well, I hope I can give you other reasons to like having me around.” He was already halfway to standing when she said it, but her words made him jolt upright. His eyes immediately sought hers, and as she had done in the field, her hand found his arm. “Everything all right?”

He blinked hard, then blinked again. Her brown eyes looked back, with the concern of a stranger, but with something more. Something he recognized. _But how can that be?_ He hid his strange bewilderment by wiping his brow. “Yeah. Just- someone said those words to me. A long time ago.” He had hoped his fabrication might lead him to the truth, but she offered nothing but her smile.

“I’m sorry. Bad memories?”

Her compassion warmed him and gave him an answer he didn’t know how he found. He just knew. “No. Good ones.” 

Brushing aside the moment, his focus went back to his work, though bringing the string around her waist now felt like something more than taking measurements. And whether she felt it or not, her body swaying closer to his was doing nothing to help. It wasn’t any better when the string and his fingers met between her breasts. He wasn’t sure what his face was betraying, but it was something, because he heard her soft chuckle. He was about to rebuke her merriment when he saw the darkness under the tunic’s neckline. His rough fingertips pushed it to the side.

“You’ve been jousting already.”

“How else can I get better?” she asked. Her hand came up to brush his away, but he pinched the hem to hold firm. “It’s nothing, Mr. Gibbs. Really.”

“It’s ‘Gibbs’. Just ‘Gibbs’.”

“What an odd forename,” she joked, trying to break free from the undertow of his blue eyes.

“It’s my surname. You don’t want to know my given name.”

“Not with that preamble, no.”

“May I?”

She nodded, not even knowing what she was agreeing to, and when she felt his hand cover the bruise that painted a blotch just below her leftt collarbone, she wasn’t sure if it was the best agreement she’d ever made or the worst.

“It’s still warm,” he said, fighting his own internal struggles. “Two days ago?”

“Yes.”

“It’s why you came looking for armour.”

“Yes.”

“Whoever made your chest piece needs to be strung up.” 

She knew it was her imagination, but she would’ve sworn the bruise was healing under his touch. His free hand came up to press against the pulse point under her ear, and under the touch of both hands, she found it hard to formulate a response that was any more than, “Yes.” Hearing the reply and seeing his smirk, she smacked his shoulder. His frown halted the levity. “What is it?”

“Your heart stutters,” he said. “How long have you been jousting?”

“About a year, here and there at the faires,” she replied. “I’ve won more than I lost.”

He smiled at her proud defense. “I bet you have. But you’ve been hit hard, more than once.” His palm pressed into the muscle. “I’ll get Daniel to run to the stream for water. We’ll put a cold cloth on it to bring out the heat.”

There was nothing more she could say while under his concerned gaze. There was something in his eyes, a connection she couldn’t identify, a time she couldn’t place. His touch was a reminder of something she had no memory of. 

He broke the spell by saying, “Bring your camp up to the horse hut. You’ll be under Lodger’s Law.”

“I bet you don’t get many bandits up here.”

“‘Bout as many as passerbys,” he admitted. “But I’ll sleep better knowin’ your safe.”

He said it in a joking manner, even if there was something deeper in the sentiment.

“We have food,” she said, already missing his touch as he adjusted her tunic and dropped his hands. 

“Bring some brandy and we might be friends.”

…..

The men went to the camp to gather their things and Gibbs joined Daniel inside the small cottage where he was collecting the mugs.

“Whattya think, Daniel?”

“I think they might be what Mrs. Bennett would call ‘ragamuffins’. But I like them!”

Gibbs grinned. “They’re gonna settle outside the barn while I teach you how to make armour.”

“Me?” His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Why not? I can’t do it all on my own in the time she wants it.”

The smile took up half the boy’s face. “Thank you, sir! You won’t regret this!”

Gibbs couldn’t help but smile, too. “All right. For now, I need you to go to the stream and bring back a pitcher of water. The lady has a wound that needs attending.”

“I’ll see to it immediately.” 

With the cottage quiet at last, Gibbs sat, poured himself a mead and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

…..

Setting up the camp took slightly longer than breaking it down, but after 30 minutes, both tasks were done and the small group looked at their work. 

“Good job,” Jack said, surveying the camp. “Think Gibbs will let us use the shed?”

“Oooh, it’s ‘Gibbs’ now, is it?” Anshiri winked.

She waved him off but it was Hale who spoke next.

“Not sure he’ll have room for our horse,” he said. Following his head tilt, the trio stepped up to the enclosure.

“ _Madar_ ,” Anshiri whispered.

“Yeah, whatever he said,” Hale agreed. “That’s a destrier.” The big horse snorted and shook its head, as if replying to the name.

“More than that,” Anshiri went on, “that’s a king’s horse. _The_ king. Look at the brand along the right chestnut.”

Hale began pacing. “This is not good. Not good at all. We should’ve known it was trouble when we found out he had land outside the village walls. No blacksmith is allowed that; no blacksmith can _afford_ that. And now he’s got a destrier- the king’s destrier? We can’t stay. Who knows what kind of trouble this man is in?”

“We can stay and we will,” Jack said. With a fraction less firmness, she added, “We have to. If we have any chance of getting the money to live our lives the way we want, we’re going to need his help.” The three men looked at her. “And I trust him.”

After a few seconds of contemplating their options, they knew she was right. As usual, it was Hale who raised the mood. 

“Just what _did_ you and the blacksmith get up to in the forge, Jacqueline?”

Picking up a pebble, she tossed it at him. “Don’t be an ass. And don’t call me ‘Jacqueline’!”

“There a problem?”

All eyes turned to Gibbs who had come around the corner. 

“No,” she quickly said, “no problem.”

“Nice horse,” Hale said, ignoring the glare Jack shot his way.

“Thanks.” When no one else spoke, Gibbs searched the site. “You got the old chest piece handy?”

Rather than reply, she quickly gathered the two pieces and almost laughed at his silent judgment of the work. 

“Hale, you’re with me,” was all he said before turning to the forge. 

Jack could only shrug at Hale’s puzzled expression, and they all followed Gibbs. It was almost comical, all four trying to fit into the small space with him, and the situation was only made more amusing when Daniel squeezed in. Unaware of the purpose of everyone squeezed into the room, he made a case for his own presence.

“I brought the water for the lady,” he said, holding up the pitcher. 

Gibbs nodded. “Put it outside then come here.”

“Yes, sir.” 

While the apprentice did as he was told, Gibbs spoke to Hale. “Stand over here. I need to take your measurements.”

Hale glanced at Jack. “I, okay.”

“You’ve been jousting at village faires,” Gibbs said, knowing he might as well answer the unspoken questions. Though his attention was on Hale, his words were for Jack. “That’s great. You can probably pass for a small man with the right disguise.” He knelt to wrap the string around Hale’s calves and Daniel wrote the number in charcoal on a piece of wood. “But that’s not gonna work if you’re looking to do the Lords’ faire. They’re gonna want ya to bend the knee and thank them for allowin’ you to nearly kill yourself to earn £100. That means showin’ your face and sayin’ a few words.”

Anshiri slowly nodded. “So you’re going to make a second suit for Raymond.”

“Not entirely,” Gibbs replied, standing at full height again. “Don’t need the whole thing and we don’t have the iron for it anyway. Just need enough to make it look like he’s taken off the big pieces. Keep the helmet under your arm and no one will notice it’s too small.”

“How do you know all this?”

Gibbs ignored the question and instead dismissed the group. “I can work with this but I’m gonna need more iron for the suit. You can get it in the village. I’ll need 2 shillings worth.” When no one moved, he raised an eyebrow. “Today?”

Hale smacked Anshiri. “Let’s go.” He looked at King who just shook his head. Shrugging, he turned to Jack with a hand outstretched.

She scoffed. “It’s 2 shillings, Raymond, take it out of your mead money.”

He pretended to be slighted. “Fine, fine. See if I bring you any cheese back.”

With two less in the room, there was space to breathe, though Gibbs looked at her and said, “Go tend to that bruise.”

“But I-” His blank expression stopped her objection in its tracks. “Fine. Where’s the water?”

“Show her, Danny. And grab a cloth from the house.”

“Yes, sir. Ma’am.” He chivalrously stepped to the side to allow Jack to go first.

Samuel stayed behind, silent but attentive. His uncertain bond with Jack aside, Gibbs found he liked this man best, most likely because he didn’t talk much. With his brain deciphering the thought, he looked up at the man who stood quietly in the corner. Making sure they made eye contact, he plainly asked, “Can you hear me?”

Whether or not he could read lips or simply sussed out the question based on his expression, Gibbs didn’t know, but King minutely shook his head. Rather than reply, Gibbs pinched one half of the chest piece with his tongs and buried it in the charcoal pile, the flame crackling at the intrusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see King watching intently until Gibbs stepped back and gestured to the tongs. King shook his head more noticeably this time, but Gibbs was having none of it. Easing his intent with a grin, he pushed up the sleeve of the other man’s tunic to reveal a blotched scar just under the inside of his wrist, then turned his own wrist over to show a similar scar. 

“Damn fire,” he said, and King must’ve been able to decipher the comment because he grinned and nodded. “All right,” he said, gesturing to the tongs again. “You.” He pointed to the number Daniel had scrawled on the wood, mimed a shield around his shin and pointed to the piece in the charcoal. Slipping off his lambskin gloves, he held them out until King tentatively took them, then stepped back to watch the younger man take the tongs. Just as he had suspected, King had more than just a fleeting past with smithing. The way he brought the hammer down and up again in one fluid motion, the manner in which he angled the iron enough to catch the second strike told Gibbs everything he needed to know.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, cautiously stepping into the room.

Gibbs reacted to her voice, King reacted to her presence. 

“Man’s forging that excuse for a chest piece into somethin’ useful,” Gibbs replied.

“He’s deaf,” she said.

“Yep. But his eyes work.”

She chastized herself with a head shake. “I don’t know why I said that; of course being deaf doesn’t mean he can’t do things. I just didn’t know he could do _that_ thing.” Sam looked away from the iron and smiled at her.

“What’s his story?” Gibbs asked.

“I don’t know. I ran into Anshiri and Hale when they were only children, running the streets of London, parentless or from parents who didn’t care. I was 14 and separated from my own family.” She deftly avoided saying more about her own history and continued on with King’s. “We found him, literally on the side of the road with nothing more than the clothes on his back. We think he’s from Mersey, but only because he seems to love the water. That was about 2 years ago. We don’t really know much more about him except he’s a good friend.”

“He’s also a damn good blacksmith. Little rough around the edges, but he’s got the skill. I’d like to get Daniel helpin’ him, if he’s okay with that.”

As if summoned by his name, the apprentice showed up under the tapestry. “What’s that, sir?” When his eyes went to Samuel, he answered his own question. “You’re very good!” 

“He can’t hear you, Danny,” Gibbs explained at the boy’s confusion. “But maybe you two can figure out how to work together. The leggings for Hale’s disguise will give both of you some practice.”

Daniel agreed, but looked between Gibbs and King. “How will I, you know, talk to him?”

Gibbs tapped King’s left hand, away from the hammer. He stopped and looked at Gibbs, who motioned Daniel over and gestured to the tongs. After a few minutes of miming what he wanted to say, and seeing both King and Daniel nod in agreement, he stepped back and left them to it. 

“Show him, Danny, don’t tell him.”

“Yes, sir!” With a grin, he took hold of the tongs and began to work, showing King some small corrections in his technique. Gibbs ushered Jack out of the forge.

The cooler air hit his face and he wiped his brow. “That’s their day figured out.”

Jack laughed. “So what are we going to do in the meantime?”

“‘We’?”

Ignoring the question, she began walking up a small trail that led away from the house. “You can tell me all about growing up by the sea.”

He frowned but found himself following. “We’re in Shropshire. How’d you know I grew up by the sea?”

She walked backwards, enticing him to keep up. “I saw the way your eyes lit up when I said King was from Mersey. He’s not the only one who loves the water, is he?” Rather than wait for his reply, she turned and continued up the path, her laughter guiding him like a siren.

…..

They sat in the grass along the hillside that overlooked the broad land. She was leaning back on her elbows, face raised to the sun and he thought he’d never seen a woman more beautiful.

“So what’s your story, Blacksmith?” She opened her eyes just enough to squint at him.

He chuckled at her mild scrutiny. “There’s no story.”

She hummed her disbelief. “I don’t believe you. There’s a destrier in your barn and you own land outside the village gates.” Her eyes narrowed even more and her interest went from his face to his feet and back again. “You’re not royalty, are you? Not the king in disguise, tired of the chores of nobility and wondering how the poor live?”

“Yeah, ya got me. I’m the king.”

“No, I guess not,” she agreed. “Still, you’ve got a history and I’ll find out.”

“Okay.” His amusement threaded through his reply. “And what’s a 14-year old girl doing takin’ 2 ragamuffins under her wing?”

Acknowledging his memory with a laugh, she said, “I don’t know what you mean- I’m the queen.”

“Right. So how did the Queen learn how to joust?”

“I’ve been doing it since I stole a horse in Derby.” His eyes went wide at her admission. “What? You think I could afford a horse? Besides, it was in a field, minding its own business. I had to steal the saddle from 3 villages over.” Her confession was so casual that he couldn’t help but laugh, and it must have made her realize what she said, because she asked, “You’re not going to get the sheriff, are you?”

“I’d have to drag him out of the tavern first. Then dowse him in cold water until he sobers up. Seems like a hell of a lot of work to bring in a woman who found a horse in a field.”

“And the saddle?”

“You found that on the ground, didn’t ya?”

She grinned at his impossible scenario. “Yes. Right there on the side of the road.”

“Also mindin’ its own business.”

“Exactly!”

Gibbs reclined in the grass, folding his hands across his chest and closing his eyes. “Besides, the law of the land doesn’t apply to the Queen.”

Laughing, she mirrored his languid pose. “Apparently, it doesn’t apply to the King, either.” Before he could comment, she added, “The destrier? The land? Tell me, my king.”

He felt his body react in a way it hadn’t in years, perhaps decades. But it was his head and heart that reacted even stronger; there was an inexplicable familiarity when she ran her knuckles across the back of his hand, like the spark of memory he had had earlier alone with her in the forge. He jumped at the contact and the confounding puzzle, but she didn’t pull away.

“I was the armourer to the King’s youngest son.”

He turned his head at her chuckle and when she saw no deceit in his eyes, the sound died in her throat.

“You’re not jesting.”

“Nope.”

Her eyes flitted from left to right as her brain tried to put pieces together. “The youngest. George?” He nodded, though his eyes never left her face. “They say he died of his wounds he received in the Battle of Hereford.”

His eyebrows raised. “You’re well informed, my queen.”

The chuckle returned. “But he didn’t- die of his wounds, I mean.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“He died of the sweating sickness, didn’t he?” The eyebrows came down sharply. “Don’t look at me like that; you know how word gets around.”

“Yeah, well that _word_ is nothin’ more than gossip.”

She rubbed his hand again in an attempt to soothe his ire. “Then how did 3 servants and his physician perish?” She let the question linger between them, not expecting him to give her the answer she already knew. “Besides, if you’re the armourer I think you are, he’d never have fallen in battle. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He looked away but didn’t deny it. “After he died, they weren’t sure what to do with me. Edward had his own armourer and his father didn’t need one, bein’ as that fat ass couldn’t fit in a saddle.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed in genuine amusement.

“But Edward always liked me. Maybe even respected me. He did right by me and gave me George’s horse and a small purse. His way of sayin’ ‘thanks’.”

“And the land.”

“And the land.”

“Suddenly I feel like I’m not paying enough for the armour.”

He turned to her again. “No, it’s fair. I’ve been outta practice for almost 10 years.”

“So I’m paying too much?” She rolled away just in time to avoid his retaliatory elbow. Laughing, she stood and held out her hand to help him to his feet. “We should see what the boys are getting up to.” The sound of her stomach rumbling could be heard over the soft wind that blew over the grass. “And apparently get something to eat. You coming, squire?”

“I thought I was your king,” he protested, but once again, finding himself following her wherever she wanted to take him.

…..

They came over the hill in time to see Hale and Anshiri lugging a basket between them.

“Your iron,” Jack said.

“Yep. If they make it.” The two men were struggling with the sway and weight of their delivery, though Gibbs just shook his head. “Not a day’s worth of labour between them, is there?”

“They’re good men,” Jack defended, though relented with a small shrug. “Safwan can read, which is invaluable, as I’m sure you can guess.”

“And Hale?”

“He’s charming. Which is more valuable than you might think.”

The two groups met almost simultaneously at the forge where the two men dropped their delivery.

“Two shillings worth of iron,” Hale breathed before bending at the waist.

“With some cheese and ale,” Anshiri added. “As a thanks to our innkeeper.” He looked at Gibbs and smiled.

With the forge’s tapestry tied off, Hale glanced into the room and asked, “What’s going on here, then?”

Danny turned. “Samuel is a fine blacksmith!”

“Samuel?” Hale repeated. “Samuel King?” Stepping into the workshop, he watched the man carefully bend a thin strip of glowing metal until it was the exact curve he wanted. “Who knew?”

“Gibbs knew,” Jack informed him. 

Anshiri joined them. “Like recognizes like, I suppose.” He, too, watched intently. “That’s fantastic!” 

“We’re going to get them to make Hale’s fake pieces. Then Gibbs will make mine.” She turned to Gibbs. “At least, I’m assuming you’re making it.”

“I’m makin’ it.” He hefted the iron into the forge, much to the amazement of the two who could barely lug it between them, and to the admiration of the woman who trailed her eyes over his arms.

“We’ll be done tonight, sir,” Daniel promised.

Gibbs shook his head. “Nah. Sun’ll be down soon and there’s no point in you two bein’ out here in the dark. You can finish up in the mornin’ and I’ll start the full piece. Work that last piece then come in to eat.” He clapped Samuel on the shoulder and smiled.

Daniel nodded. “Yes, sir.”

To the group, Gibbs said, “You’re free to come in, too. Enough room for everyone. And we’ll never eat all that cheese.”

“I would love to join you, but I’ve got to get back to the village before they close the gates.”

Jack rolled her eyes. “Tell me you didn’t sweet talk a maiden.”

“Okay.” The pause was long enough for everyone to laugh. “How do you think we could afford the cheese?” With a grin and a wink, he touched the side of his nose and gave a wave before beginning a slow jog back to the village. 

“I see what you meant,” Gibbs said to Jack.

“Hey, this cheese isn’t cheap. Told you being charming was valuable.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Before she could call him out on his smirk, he told Danny, “Put out the fire and come in when it’s done. Did you bring extra water earlier?”

“Yes. It’s in the house. Some for the washup and extra for the fish.”

“Good job. I’ll see you inside.” To Jack and Anshiri, he said, “C’mon.”

She hadn’t been in the house yet, having been measured in the smithy while Daniel had treated the men to mead earlier in the day. And while she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, it was everything she could have wanted- warmth, comfort and an aura of safety she hadn’t felt in a long while. The house was a standard 2-room affair, no different than most, but it seemed much bigger; or maybe it was just the owner who made it feel that way. The single window offered some light and the candles on the table, once lit, added all they needed. The long bench against the wall clearly doubled as someone’s bed, the curtain that would give some semblance of privacy tied off to the side, but the bedding was neatly folded and set aside and a wool blanket covered the narrow mattress. For a blacksmith’s home, she was surprised at how much was made of wood, but even a cursory glance told her there was craftsmanship involved. The table wasn’t a simple collection of square pieces nailed together, the chairs weren’t generic planks of wood. Each leg was intricately carved, each edge angled or curved. The table top had the finest etching she’d ever seen, and even Anshiri couldn’t help but to admire it out loud.

“I can’t imagine how long it took someone to do this.”

“Took me about 3 months,” Gibbs blithely recalled as he uncovered the brine barrel and began rinsing off the fish in clean water.

Anshiri’s eyebrows touched his hairline. “You did all this?”

“No, I did the table and the cupboard. Danny did the chairs and the bed.” There was a measure of pride that weaved through his voice. “He can do the big pieces, but his real talent is in the detail. Which is good, because I’m startin’ to not be able to see a thing.” He squinted at the pan for affect before dropping a dollop of butter onto the cast iron. 

The fire had heated the cast iron and when the butter sizzled, he carefully laid the fish into the pan. Anshiri quickly glanced at Jack when he saw Gibbs sprinkle the fish with pepper, his eyes going wide at the use of the uncommon spice. She simply shook her head and smiled at his reaction. 

“I see blacksmithing is also not your only talent, sir,” Anshiri said, stepping closer to the fire. Taking Gibbs’ smile as encouragement, he motioned to the water barrel. “May I use some of that? And a pot?”

Curious, Gibbs said, “Help yourself.”

While he tended to the fish, Anshiri put a pot on to boil, and just as the meat turned over and the water rolled, he dropped something in the water Gibbs couldn’t see. Quickly, Anshiri reassured him. “It’s a hot beverage my mother used to give me. It’s made of nothing more than local flora, but I’ve found it’s a comforting way to end the day.”

“We’ll drink it first so you don’t think we’re trying to poison you,” Jack joked. 

Gibbs shook his head. “Just wonderin’ if I have enough honey to give you.”

Her surprised, “How did you know-” was cut off by Anshiri’s rich laugh. “Quiet, you.”

Danny and King came in and the young man voiced his appreciation for the meal. “Smells wonderful.”

“You two wash up. It’s almost done.”

Danny followed the order by silently directing Sam to the wash basin where they cleaned off a day’s worth of soot and dirt. 

With everyone occupied but her, Jack came to Gibbs’ side. “Anything I can do?”

“I’ve got some plates,” he said, tilting his head at a nearby shelf. “Only 4. We don’t get many visitors.” His voice was almost apologetic, and she bumped him shoulder-to-shoulder in acknowledgment. “We can bring that stool over for a 5th chair, if ya want.”

Given direction, she gladly went about doing it, and when Daniel attempted to tell her it was his job, she guided him to a chair and sat him down. “You’ve been working hard all day. Sit.” A chaste kiss on the top of his head only made him blush harder and it elicited a smirk from Gibbs. “You be quiet over there and let this poor boy rest.”

“Here ya go, poor boy,” Gibbs said, plating the fish. “If you’re not too tired, maybe you can cut some cheese for our guests.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, though bolstered by Jack’s smile. 

When he reached to his side for his knife, Anshiri said, “May I? I noticed you like detail.”

Daniel laid the knife across his palm. “My goodness!” he declared, his voice full of awe. The blade was long and slightly curled at the end, but it was the engraving from the ivory handle to the tip that caught his admiration. Or at least, to the broken tip. He flicked his thumb across the hard edge. “That’s a shame.”

“Yes. Raymond will tell you it’s because he used it to pierce the armour of a drunken knight when the truth is, he used it to get out of the jail he was thrown into when the sheriff found him with his daughter.”

Jack put her hands over Daniel’s ears. “Really, Safwan?”

Even Samuel laughed.

…..


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder: I posted this entire story at once in 3 separate chapters, so make sure you've read chapter 1 first!
> 
> 'Dolcezza' is a throwback reference to the previous story, "In the Family". Beyond the variations of the line "You'll like having me around", we like to bring other little things from previous stories to weave everything together. :)

…..

“Thank you again for the meal.”

“Thanks for-” Gibbs stumbled over the right words. “I appreciate you spendin’ time with Danny. He doesn’t get much mental stimulation outside of me.”

She touched his arm, tugging the tunic that covered him from the cool night’s air. “He’s a charmer. I wonder where he gets it from?” His smile brought out hers. “Anyway, you should thank Anshiri; I didn’t think those two would have ears left with the amount of talking they did.”

He grinned at the memory of the two young men breathlessly talking about London and the village, the hot beverage Anshiri made and the blacksmithing Daniel did. Every time the conversation looked like it would come to an end, one would pick up the thread and carry on until Gibbs had to play the authority figure and remind them both the morning came early. 

“He’s going to be a small bear in the morning,” Gibbs groused.

“But a small bear with new knowledge, and that’s never a bad thing.”

“No,” he agreed, “it’s not.”

“And how about you, my blacksmith? Was the evening enjoyable for you, too?”

“A king, a squire, a blacksmith. Any other title you want to give me?”

Her lips twitched in amusement. “I’m sure I could think of one or two others.”

“I bet you could, _dolcezza_.”

They both froze at the word.

“What did you call me?” she asked, not unkindly. When he didn’t reply, she tugged at his tunic again. Using the rough cloth as an anchor, she pulled herself closer, the evening light low enough to partially cover her face, their proximity doing the rest. Her breath weaved around his ear as she whispered, “Say it again.”

“ _Dolcezza_ ,” he repeated, as if he had said it a hundred times in the past. The way she reacted against him, he was starting to wonder if he had.

“I don’t know what language that is,” she admitted, “but you can feel free to call me that anytime.”

His laughter warmed a spot against her temple and his hand came up to thread through her hair. His rough cheek scraped against her soft skin, but her turn into his touch led him to believe she didn’t seem to mind. And when his lips replaced his cheek, she murmured her approval, drawing him closer by his belt and daringly dropped a kiss at the corner of his mouth. 

His small surprised moan at her forwardness made her pull back just enough to jest, “I am your queen, after all.”

The reminder of their conversation in the field made him laugh, and the tautness between them relaxed. 

“I don’t think that’s what ‘dolcezza’ means.”

Balancing her kiss by placing another one on the opposite corner, she shrugged and stepped back with a grin. “It does now.” Her amber eyes flickered in the oranges of the sunset. Boldly, she branded a kiss full on his mouth before beginning to walk backwards towards the small camp. “Morning comes early,” she reminded him and laughed at his dismayed expression.

…..

Morning did indeed come early, though for the amount of tossing and turning he did, Gibbs wasn’t sure there had been much between sleeping and waking. The face of a woman he had met only a day earlier held his mind captive for the majority of the night, but it was not just the face of her, it was the face of what he could only describe as ‘many hers’. He slapped the back of his head and mentally told himself to stop buying ale from Robert in the village.

The air was cool but it only took a moment to stoke the fireand get the eggs cooking. Anshiri had left some of the drink he had made and Gibbs put it to boil, finding the taste not altogether unpleasant, though he drank it straight, having given Jack what he would have taken as his portion of honey. The smells were slowly rousing Daniel who pulled back his blanket and swung his feet around to the bare floor.

“Arise and shine,” Gibbs said. “Your friend left some of that drink behind and we’ve still got cheese.”

Danny’s eyes lifted from sleep’s haze. “Really?” The promise of a meal and a hot drink had the young man pushing his feet into boots and changing into his clothes for the day.

…..

The camp’s occupants were getting up at a slightly slower speed, though Samuel was waiting at the forge by the time Gibbs and Daniel arrived. 

“Careful, Danny, or this one will have your job.” Based on King’s laugh, Gibbs said, “So you _can_ read lips.”

He nodded, though he held his hand out flat and tilted it back and forth. Danny leaned forward to scrutinize King’s mouth.

Gibbs chuckled. “If you speak slow, he can get an idea of what you’re sayin’ by the way your lips move,” he explained.

“Wow. Really?” he asked King, who nodded his reply. To Gibbs, he was all business. “You wanted us to finish those pieces this morning?”

“How far’d you get?”

“Almost finished. The knee and toe shields are the only things left. The lady brought us the rest of her armour so we’ll have plenty.”

“Okay.” He paused for a minute and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he repeated, to Danny’s confusion. “Go get Anshiri and Jack then meet me at the barn.”

“Sir?”

“It’s okay, Danny. Just meet me there.”

The young man nodded and darted towards the camp. King tilted his head at Gibbs who only pressed his lips together and shook his.

“C’mon.”

Jack’s horse greeted them with a soft neigh before returning to the hay Gibbs had left out. The destrier in the small shed rose his head in curiosity at the audience. 

“Hey, boy,” Gibbs greeted, his voice as soft as his hand on its nose. He held up a halting hand to King and entered the space, shifting the big horse to the side. It was then that Daniel, Anshiri and Jack arrived.

“You need us to help clean the stall?” she asked, her morning grin bright and cheerful. But it faltered slightly when she saw his expression. “Gibbs?”

He glanced at Daniel, knowing what he was about to do was going to open the doors to endless questions, some he wasn’t going to want to answer. But the boy’s innocent expression and Jack’s supporting gaze gave him the extra courage he needed to brush back the bale of hay in the corner and pull back the large piece of leather that covered a mysterious prize. Even Samuel gasped when the mystery was revealed. 

“I knew it!” was the first thing Danny exclaimed. “I knew it!”

Anshiri covered his mouth. “We are in so much trouble.”

Jack, being the only one who knew the truth, could only smile proudly.

The ‘prize’ was a full set of horse armour that, even in its years of unuse, still glinted in the light that seeped through the cracks in the roof. 

“We’re not in trouble,” Gibbs assured Safwan. 

“Because you were an armourer for the king!” Danny could barely contain his excitement. Under Gibbs’ gentle but stern stare, he bowed his head. “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be, Danny. I shoulda told ya years ago.”

“Wait,” Anshiri said in an attempt to try and piece things together. “You’re an armourer for the king.”

“For George.”

Anshiri turned to Jack’s reply. “You knew all along?”

“Only since yesterday.”

“These things were given to me. We’re not in trouble,” Gibbs said again. “But you won’t be allowed in the Lords’ tournament without a proper horse with proper protection.”

Jack looked up at the docile horse. “He’s huge.”

“Yep. Good thing you’ve got almost a month to get used to him. Startin’ today.” He opened the gate and guided him out. “I’ll help ya with the saddle, but the rest is up to you. At some point, I’ll teach you two how to suit up the armour,” he said to Anshiri and King, “but right now, gettin’ the hang of the horse is the main priority.”

“What can we do in the meantime?” Daniel asked.

“In the meantime, you and Samuel finish up that armour for Hale. I’ll saddle the horse and make sure the lady here doesn’t break a bone.” He deftly avoided her elbow. 

“Anshiri,” Jack said to her friend, “you might want to head into the village and make sure Hale hasn’t run off with a maiden.”

Gibbs reached into his pouch and tossed a shilling to Anshiri. “Might wanna get more honey. Got a feelin’ I’m gonna run out soon.”

Anshiri shot a grin at Jack whose glare did nothing to lessen his amusement. “I’ll be back shortly. I don’t want to miss this.” He paired Jack to the horse with his eyes, and his grin grew wider.

“Get going,” was all she said.

“We shouldn’t be longer than an hour or two, sir,” Danny said.

Gibbs nodded his approval. ‘Get to it, then.”

With everyone gone, Jack came to Gibbs' side and murmured, “Alone at last. What do you need?”

His unamused raised eyebrow let her know he knew it was a loaded question, but she brushed off the silent accusation. Wiping her hand down the horse’s forehead, she asked, “What’s his name?”

Gibbs blinked. “‘Horse’.”

Her mouth dropped open in dramatic disapproval. “No, it isn’t! It’s something regal like ‘Tristan’ or ‘Galahad’, isn’t it, yes it is.” She nuzzled against the gentle horse’s nose, despite Gibbs’ eyeroll. “I know- ‘Paladin’!” The horse bobbed its head twice and Jack laughed. “See?” she said to a disbelieving Gibbs. “He’s been waiting all this time for someone to call him by his name, haven’t you, yes you have!”

“Give me strength,” he whispered under his breath, then inhaled deeply to hoist the saddle from the ground to the horse. The big animal barely moved under the weight, the war horse long accustomed to the load, even in years of inactivity. Jack went around the other side and began strapping the buckle beneath the belly. “We’ll fix the stirrups once you get on,” he told her. Satisfied with their work, he gestured to the horse. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She stepped forward, took the reins, slipped her foot into the stirrup- and realized her problem. The stirrup was low and the girth of the horse was wide, making it impossible for her to swing her leg over its back. She tried it twice before giving up, holding up a hand to his smirk. Standing on solid ground again, she adjusted the stirrup higher- only to discover the new problem was reaching it with her foot. 

“This isn’t funny.”

Her claim did nothing to stop his laughter. 

“Lemme help.”

Finding no other solution, she sighed. “Fine.” Using his clasped hands as a step, she pushed off with her right foot to get her left into the stirrup. The second half of the task was nothing in comparison to the first, and she was able to swing her right leg over and settle in the saddle. “I feel like a flea on the back of an elephant,” she said. 

His hand ran down her pant leg under the guise of making sure her foot was positioned properly, though the heat and squeeze from his hand quickly dispelled the ruse. Clearing his throat when he looked up into her eyes, he stepped back and placed his traitorous hands on his hips. “Let’s see what ya got, Flea.”

“Hmph.” She was no stranger to riding, but the war horse was something different, and her first clue was when she heeled his shoulders and he didn’t move. A second attempt got her the same result. “Come on, big guy. Work with me here.” She leaned forward as close as she could to his ear and she whispered something Gibbs couldn’t hear. Finished with her private conversation, she sat up straight and the horse began to walk, head up and hooves moving in precision. She flashed a triumphant grin to Gibbs who looked back with approval. 

The moment was short lived when the horse transitioned from walk to trot to canter before Jack had time to react. Her squeal could be heard even as Gibbs lost sight of the horse in the distance.

…..

“You could’ve helped me.” 

“I did,” Gibbs said. “I helped you off the horse.” The reminder was meant to tease, though it ended up reminding him of how she had felt in his arms as he guided her down, her limbs rubber from expending all her strength to finally bring the horse to heel. She had looped her arms around his neck on the way down and his knees bent as he took her weight, soft and familiar, against him. He had just begun to enjoy the feel of her under his hands when she repaid him for his sarcasm with a knee to the groin. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have the strength for more,” she said as if reading his mind. 

He instinctively turned in a way that protected the tender spots as he settled the horse back in the barn and hung up the saddle. Her wince when she tried to get the blood going in her muscles again earned his sympathy. “There’s a spot at the river near the big rock,” he said, jutting his chin in its direction. “The water’s damn cold but it’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

“Hmph,” she said, with less playfulness than when she had said it earlier. “I think I need to sit, first.”

“C’mon.” 

He held out his arm, offering his shoulder which she gratefully took, and he slipped his hand around her waist. Together, they hobbled their way to the house, away from the inquisitive eyes of the forge. Once inside, he gently lowered her to the bench, put the water on to boil and sat in a chair to look at her. 

“That’s a big horse,” was all she said. 

“Yep.”

Misinterpreting his one-note reply, she bristled. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can.”

The immediate assurance caught her off-guard. “Oh.”

“You got a lot of time. You’ll figure it out. What did you say to him?”

The memory of whispering in the horse’s ear made her smile. “I promised him all the apples he could possibly want.”

“Didn’t realize he was such an easy mark.”

“Oh, most males are,” she winked. “Besides, it wasn’t what I promised him as much as it was my tone.” Her voice had gotten lower and sultrier as she spoke, and the way his eyes darkened only proved her point. Her laughter broke the spell. “Don’t be too offended; that lasted all of 20 seconds.”

He shook his head. “Nah. He likes you.”

“Oh?”

“He brought you back, didn’t he?”

“You’re lucky my knee’s over here and you’re over there.”

He grinned and stood to pour her the last of the strained roots and leaves in the pot. Wordlessly, he poured an abundance of honey then poured some more.

“You’re going to make me feel bad, for the knee thing,” she said, gratefully taking the mug in both hands. 

His refusal to hear her apology was in his head shake. “Not the first woman to make that connection,” he admitted, “though you're the first woman this decade.”

She looked around the small home, taking it in with a different view than she had the day before. While comfortable, it did lack what she would call ‘a woman’s touch’, with almost everything being utilitarian rather than aesthetic. 

“You’ve been alone for a while.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“I’ve had Daniel for 5 years. Parents had 7 other kids, couldn’t afford another mouth. I told ‘em I could use a hand.” He looked in the direction of the forge though he couldn’t really see it. “He’s a good kid.”

She hummed her agreement. “I don’t doubt it. But I was talking more about you. Being without a woman.” The red that tipped his ears brought some levity to the conversation. “Are you blushing?”

“Nope.”

“And now you’re _lying_?” She shook her head and made a ‘tsk’ noise. 

He glanced down at his hand, then to her eyes. “It’s been a while.”

The confession, given begrudgingly, encouraged her to let him off the hook. She made a show of judging the room. “Thought so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His indignation made her laugh. “They don’t offer coloured fabric in your village?”

He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Sounds like a good time for me to leave.”

She reached out for his tunic as he passed her, but froze when she tried to stand. “Ouch.”

All teasing went out the window to be replaced by concern. “Shouldn’tve let you ride so long.”

“I’m fine.” When he raised an eyebrow at her half bent frame, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, so maybe not ‘fine’.”

He cupped her elbow with one hand and gave her shoulder a nudge with the other, forcing her to sit. “You stay here. Have a nap.”

“No. Really.”

Ignoring her objections, he swooped her feet up until she was almost laying flat. “I’ve got to start on your armour, I’m gonna give Danny and Sam some time off, and Anshiri’s on a wild goose chase lookin’ for Hale. No sense you walkin’ around when you can barely stand. Give your legs a chance to recover havin’ something that big between them.”

His words were purposely crass and she slapped his arm repeatedly. “Bastard.”

He nodded. “So I’ve been told.” Pulling a sheet over her and up to her chin, he brushed back her hair from her forehead. “Rest. We’re not goin’ anywhere.”

Her eyes were closed before he had even left the house.

…..

Her muscles weren’t the only ones staging a protest. The stretch from his neck to his biceps reminded him that, while he did a fair amount of blacksmithing, the work that went into armour was vastly different than daily iron work. With the tapestry rolled above the door, he could see the afternoon sun was well past mid-day, a timely suggestion that he put down the tongs and hammer and take a rest. The camp was quiet and the horses were calm and everything seemed still as he entered the house. Daniel and King had gone off somewhere, Anshiri had yet to come back with Hale, and-

She was gone.

He pretended to not be disappointed at her absence, and decided to follow his own advice. Grabbing a stretch of linen and a clean tunic, he began the short trek to the river. The big rock he had mentioned was even bigger once one made it over the small hill to the river below, the tip of the rock becoming a large pile at the bend. He had bathed in it for years, isolated and separated from the larger pool downstream used by the villagers. As far as he knew, only he and Daniel had ever dipped into the calm pool. Until now.

The mystery of where she had gone was solved, and the answer stopped him in his tracks. Oblivious (or uncaring?) to anyone who might see her, she bobbed in the shallow water, lowering deep enough to cover her hair, rising high enough for the water to tease at a glimpse just below her collarbone. Her shocked laughter at the cold punctuated every lift of her head from the frigid water. But she did it again and again, each time under water longer than the last until time would stretch long enough for her to make the distance from one curl of the shore to the other. This was repeated several times, captivating him, until the temperature must have reached her acceptable limit, because when she reached the nearest shore, she shivered her way out of the water to the dry clothing on the rock nearby. She took a cursory look around, but the big rock’s overhang shielded her from any potential prying eyes. Except his.

He was sure he was holding his breath as he waited for the inevitable, but even expected, her disrobing wasn’t nearly what he had envisioned, and he blamed himself for being an unimaginative blacksmith. She didn’t try to wiggle out of the wet clothes and instead grabbed the tunic bottom with crossed arms and pulled it over her head in one easy motion. Her knee-length undergarments clung to the well-toned legs he had touched that morning, but his eyes went to all the places that remained untouched, from the way her hips harrowed at her waist to ribs that curled their way up her body, drawing his eyes to her breasts, the cold water and cool air conspiring to pebble nipples that were dark against her alabaster skin. Quickly -much too quickly for his liking- she reached for the dry clothing and slipped it over her head. Any further thought was stopped in its tracks.

“Hey!”

She jumped and instinctively covered herself despite the overly large tunic doing it for her. “You scared me!”

He carefully made his way down to the embankment. “That’s my tunic.”

Looking down at the garment, she agreed. “Yes.”

“Well?” He got close enough to see the amusement in her eyes.

“Well, what? I was going to give it back to you once mine dried. I would’ve asked you, but you were busy blacksmithing or whatever you call it.”

Reflexively, he reached for the waist of the tunic that looked miles better on her than it did on him and tugged her closer. “You wouldn’tve asked.”

She settled into his hands that had made their home on her waist. “No, you’re right, I wouldn’t,” she agreed, sliding her hands up his arms and around his shoulders. 

The silence stretched and her eyes flitted over his face enough times that he finally asked, “What?”

Her shrug was casual, but her eyes lowered, as if not quite confident enough to meet his. “I was thinking, in the water.”

“The cold has a way of doin’ that.”

“You, too, huh?” Her fingers fidgeted at the nape of his neck. “Anyway, I was thinking, when this is all over and we get the money, you should-” She shrugged another attempt at deflecting the seriousness behind her words, “You should come with us. With me.”

His brows pressed down. “Go with you?”

“Yeah,” she said, full steam ahead with nothing to lose. “We’ve already got the land and we can build whatever we want on it. We’ll have the money for that and more.”

“I can’t just leave everythin’ behind, Jack. What about Danny?”

“He can come, too. New place, new environment. Might be good for him.”

“You tryin’ to tell me I’m not good for him?”

“No,” she protested, “but you know what I mean. He’s dying to learn, Gibbs. This would give him a chance to explore the world around him.”

“You’re going to live in Devonshire, not Denmark.”

His words were taking the wind out of her sails, but she pushed ahead. “Okay, then what about us?”

“What about us?”

“Could you please stop repeating my questions?” There was an edge to her voice that she softened with a sigh. “Yes, us. I don’t know what it is, but I know you feel it, too. It’s like I’ve known you forever instead of a day.” She kissed the corner of his mouth as she had done the previous evening. Then kissed the opposite corner. “I don’t want to lose you. Again.” 

He was a man of logic, not emotion, and it startled him how quickly the latter was overtaking the former. He needed time to figure out what it meant, to convince himself it was a ridiculous idea to think they could have known each other longer than a day, even when he felt the same unwavering pull she did. Steeling himself from her words, her touch and her eyes, he said, “You never had me to lose, Jack.” If he had worried his words wouldn’t put the brakes on the situation, the way her eyes shuttered all but confirmed they hit the mark. Her hands dropped immediately and she stepped back and never had he wanted to go back in time so much as he did at that moment.

“You’re absolutely right,” she agreed with a flatness to her voice that hit him square in the lungs. “I’ll have your tunic back by night fall.” Collecting her wet things, she blindly gestured to the water. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He watched her moroseful return up the hill and he wondered how many stones he’d need to put in his pockets to help the water drown him quickly.

…..

No one said anything about the tension that fell over the next 3 weeks, no one dared to ask. For Gibbs, he was able to channel his frustration and confusion into his work while the 3 men learned how to armour the horse and watch as Jack mastered the big beast with grace and strength. Daniel stood at the forge, adding charcoal and air as required, silent in his assessment of the situation. It was a silence Gibbs would normally enjoy, but the absolute deadness in the quiet rattled him. 

“Somethin’ on your mind, Danny?”

“No, sir.”

“Nothin’ at all?”

He knew the young man had gotten close to the group in the last month; Samuel for his blacksmithing skills, Anshiri for his knowledge, and even Hale for his worldliness with women. But he had seen Daniel get closest to Jack, in a way a boy does when searching for a mother-type figure. She had quietly taken him under her wing, talking to him not of books and the world, but of himself and his private thoughts. Gibbs recognized how much it had been needed and felt a sense of pride at watching him grow right before his eyes, even if it felt like it meant growing apart.

“I-” He swallowed. “I was thinking. Of going. With them. To help.”

Gibbs didn’t look up from his work. “To help them with the tournament? That’s probably a good idea. She’ll need little repairs on the armour the farther she gets in it.” When there was no reply, Gibbs brought the hammer down and paused. “Just say it, Danny.”

“I’ve been thinking of going with them. When they win the tournament. After, I mean.”

Gibbs continued the job, trying to use it as a focus. “Everyone seems pretty confident she’s gonna win.”

“She’s so good!” Danny said, his eyes lighting up at his newfound favourite topic. “The way she controls the horse and the lance? She can’t lose!”

“And if she does?”

By the look on his face, the thought had clearly never occurred to him. “I- I guess I’ll just come back.”

Gibbs squinted his eyes against the spark that flicked off the end of the hammer. “So I’m gonna tend to all the work, the garden, the pen and the horse while you’re gone? Oh, right. I won’t have a horse because I’m lettin’ Jack use it.”

His harshness made Daniel pull back. “I- I won’t be gone that long, sir.”

“And if she wins?”

The dilemma brought tears to his eyes. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Go on,” Gibbs told him, jerking his head towards the open entrance. When the boy paused, he finally looked up, his eyes all flint and steel. “Go!”

Danny bolted out of the forge, nearly bowling over Hale. “Whoa! Did you put a piece of charcoal down his tunic?” The ill-timed joke received no response and Hale’s smile faded. “Okay, then.”

“What can I help you with, Hale?”

He watched Gibbs return to his work, and took the time to admire the skill and technique behind the way the iron and hammer worked together. There was a rhythm to it that was almost soothing. Uncertain of how to broach the purpose of his visit, Hale inquired, “Are you one of the Gibbs’ from Aldenham Park?”

“Nope. Gibbs from Anglesey.”

While the question had been a desperate attempt at small talk, the answer piqued Hale’s curiosity. “Anglesey? What made you leave Wales?”

“Didn’t like the rain.” 

Hale threw his head back and laughed. “I like you, Blacksmith. You know who else likes you?”

“Raymond-” His voice was full of warning.

“You’re right, that’s not important. What’s important is that you come to the tournament.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

Checking his surroundings first for any nearby ear, Hale said, “Listen. I don’t know what happened between you and Jacqueline, and I really don’t care. I mean, I do care, because I love her like a sister, but someone here has to focus on the prize, and I mean that in a literal sense. The prize is winning this tournament and she’s going to need you to do that.”

He thrust the arm plate into the fire and pushed the bellow down to add more air. “Heard she’s doin’ fine. Daniel seems to think she’s not gonna have a problem.”

Hale nodded. “Winning isn’t the problem; I’ve never seen someone so adept with a lance. It’s getting in where we’ve got a problem.” Getting no response, he stepped closer, all levity gone from his voice. “This isn’t some piddly tournament hosted by a landowner pretending to be bigger than his britches. This is the Lords’ tournament. She needs royal lineage. Or someone with royal connections to vouch for her.”

The thought had crossed his mind, but it had gotten lost in the rest of the thoughts that had taken up residence in his head. He knew exactly what the man wanted, but stubbornly asked anyway. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

“You know damn well what you need to do. The armourer to the King’s son.”

“Former armourer, in case ya hadn’t noticed.” He waved the tongs around the room.

“Now you’re just talking shit because you don’t want to help her.”

“I’m makin’ the armour, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, because you’re getting paid. So how much do we need to scrape up now, to get your favour, Blacksmith?”

The idea that his loyalty needed or even could be bought, rankled him enough to raise the tongs in Hale’s direction, the ends glowing white-red. Hale didn’t even flinch. 

“We have 5 days left, 2 by foot travel,” Hale went on as if his face hadn’t been threatened by flame. “Which means you’ve got 3 days to figure out what you’re going to do, because if you’re not going to help, all this was for naught. And she deserves to know.” The only thing that broke the silence was the charcoal popping in the fire. “Fine,” he said, dejection heavy in his throat. 

Just as he turned to leave, Gibbs coughed. “Hale.” The man stopped but didn’t turn. “I’ll sort it out.” Neither men were sure if he meant the tournament or the woman entering it.

…..

He checked the small travelling forge one more time, accounting for the amount of charcoal they’d need, making sure everything was strapped down. Their small bundle of provisions were in the wagon along with the armour and tents. Jack’s horse was bridled to the wagon, saving the destrier’s strength. 

“I appreciate you lookin’ after the place, Matthew,” Gibbs said, standing at the wagon. Leaving a home and forge empty, without the protection of the village gates, was an invitation to looters and bandits, and he was happy to have someone stay while he was gone.

“Think nothing of it, Gibbs,” the big man said. “I know Jacob takes a look every once in a while from the tower, but I’m glad to help. When do you plan on coming back?”

It was an innocent question that held extra weight only for Gibbs. “Two days there, two back, one at the tournament. Should be back this time next week at the latest.” Matthew nodded and Gibbs added, “Meat and cheese and ale in the house. Help yourself to the garden.” The man had refused to take money, so Gibbs made sure to show his thanks in other ways. 

“Much appreciated,” Matthew said, clapping Gibbs on the shoulder. Casting an eye in Hale’s direction, he leaned forward, “You think that lad’s got a chance to win?”

Gibbs followed his gaze. “Nope.”

Matthew laughed, long and loud. “That’s what I like about you, Gibbs. Always an honest man! You’d best be off; looks like everyone’s ready to go.”

He gave the man a final handshake, stepped up into the wagon seat and chewed his cheek to get the horse moving.

…..

The two days’ travel was just as taut as the 3 weeks prior, and when Daniel found the courage to ask, “Will it always be like this, sir?”, Gibbs knew he had to try and put things right. The camp was set up just outside the walls that surrounded the host’s manor, their 3 tents joining the many that had also come from far and wide in the hopes of going home richer than they came. He almost sent Danny to fetch the others, but knew it was something he owed them. Finding them around a small fire, he coughed until Samuel looked up. Gibbs chuckled at the irony.

“Got somethin’ to show ya.” The words sounded harsh to his ears. “If ya want.” 

He thumbed back towards his tent then left, wondering if they’d bother following. Considering the eggshells he and Jack and piled between each other, he wouldn’t have blamed them. Only when he heard Danny greet Jack did he know his olive branch had been accepted.

“I know you all saw bits and pieces of this back home,” he said, standing near a stack of wooden crates that hid something covered on top. “Figured you might wanna see what your money got ya.” He tugged the burlap sack back and waited for the verdict.

He _had_ shown them bits and pieces, that much was true, but being able to see the armour in its entirety for the first time brought gasps. 

Jack slowly approached it and ran her fingers over the shoulder plate. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Her eyes went from the armour to Gibbs. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Nothin’ to say,” he told her. His voice held a depth only she understood.

Oblivious to the moment, or perhaps because of it, Hale appraised the armour and said, “That’s definitely not going to fit me.”

“Nope,” Gibbs agreed, though his focus was still on Jack. “But you’re gonna have to learn how it fits on her, so let’s get to it.”

…..

Despite Gibbs’ disapproving head shakes, and among the laughter, they were able to suit her up in relatively good time before they ran off out of the tent. She turned at her waist, trying to see through the small slit in the helmet. 

“Guys?” There was no answer, and she turned the other way. “Guys?”

“Right here.”

She jumped at his voice. Shuffling to look behind her, she tried to shake her head. “I may not be able to see much, but I can see you laughing.” 

Gibbs didn’t deny it. “Ya caught me.”

“Where’d they all go?”

“Guess they thought it’d be funny to leave you standing in full armour. Here.” He unclasped the rivets that held the helmet to the shoulders and lifted it off her head. 

“Thanks. It’s hot in there.”

“It’s iron.”

“And my voice echoes.”

“It’s-” 

She batted him with her glove and he grimaced. “You deserve that.”

He stood up straight with his hand over his stomach. “I probably deserve more than that. I know I deserve more than that.”

“Gibbs.”

He brushed back a strand of hair from her damp forehead. “Let’s-” He looked around the tent for the words, but settled on, “Let’s wait until this is all over and then we’ll talk, okay?”

She knew his question meant he had already given it some thought, and that the thought had led to possibility, or he never would have asked it. “Okay.” They held each other’s gaze for an eternity. “Can you get me out of this suit now?”

…..

Sunlight broke the morning, bright and crisp, and life began to stir around the camps, the excitement and anticipation of the day beginning to grow. After a quick breakfast, Gibbs strode to the 3-man tent and gestured for Hale to join him outside.

“What time is it?” he groused, eyes squinting into the sky.

“Time for you to play your part,” Gibbs told him, then walked away without another word. 

Hale was still slipping on his boots as he hopped after him. “Rein in your horses! I’m coming.”

A line had already begun to form in front of a large oak table. Men of all shapes and sizes waited patiently while an attendant took their lineage and determined whether or not they were worthy for the tournament.

“We’re not getting in,” Hale said. It was the first time he had voiced his doubt.

Gibbs stared straight ahead. “Just keep your mouth shut and let me handle it.” The fidgeting beside him made him turn his head. “We’re in. Now knock it off before I knock it off for ya.” 

It was their turn to step up to the table and Hale held his tongue. The attendant looked up with languid interest. He blinked twice at the face that looked back.

“Jethro Gibbs?” His smile went wide. “By all the heavens, is that you?”

Gibbs ignored Hale mouthing ‘Jethro?’ and instead held out his hand to clasp the man’s forearm. “Geoffrey,” he greeted. “How long’s it been?”

“I haven’t seen you since George, God rest his soul. I heard you were in Shropshire.”

“You heard right.”

“So what brings you here?”

“What’s bringing everyone here?” Bending over slightly, he placed both hands casually on the table and lowered his voice. “I need ya to get me into the tournament.”

Geoffrey’s eyes went wide. “You?”

“Well, not me exactly.” His head tilted to the left and Geoffrey caught on.

“You know you need lineage.”

Gibbs nodded. “That’s why I’m talkin’ to you, Geoffrey.” He stood straight, discreetly leaving a gold coin where his hands had been. The attendant quickly slid it off the table, but it wasn’t the money that made him consider.

“Your name still holds weight, Jethro. I’ll have to put him under your surname.”

“That’s fine.”

“And the specialty?”

“The joust.”

Geoffrey quirked an eyebrow when Gibbs said nothing more. “That’s it? The joust?”

“The ladies like the joust, Geoff.”

He grinned. “Indeed they do. Watch for your name on the board. The first round is at noon.”

Gibbs nodded. “I owe ya.”

They were barely outside the wall when Hale nearly jumped for joy. “I can’t believe it! You really got us in.”

“Isn’t that why ya brought me?”

“Well, sure,” Hale said, “but I don’t think we actually thought you could do it.” Seeing the steely glare he got in reply, he quickly amended, “And that was incredibly stupid of us to think, obviously.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m going to tell Jack the good, but entirely expected news.” 

Gibbs only shook his head at Hale’s exit.

…..

“You okay, Jack?”

She stood in his tent, fully suited except for her helmet, and the metal creaked under her fidgeting. “No.” She had intended on deflecting his question, but her mouth betrayed her.

He stepped closer and bent his head to look into her eyes. “Tell me.”

“Just nervous, I guess.” The armour creaked again with the shrug. “Just really, really nervous.”

“What are ya nervous about? Armour not good enough?”

“Of course it’s good enough. More than.”

“Paladin not good enough?”

She laughed at the name. “No, the horse is wonderful.”

He framed her face with his hands. “You not good enough?”

Her eyes flashed with defiance. “I’m damn good enough.”

“You damn well are,” he agreed and smirked at her blushed response. “So go get it. Just make sure you keep your helmet on. And try to stay on the horse.” 

“Bastard.”

“Yeah, think we covered that already.”

She searched his face for the strength she needed, and when she found it, she said, “I’m ready.”

“Not quite.” He dropped his hands and picked up something nearby. The fabric twisted in his fingers as he collected the words he wanted. “Listen. You need something to identify you on the field. So I got this made for the horse.” He unfolded the caparison. “I knew we couldn’t use your surname, and gettin’ him in under my name, I knew we couldn’t use Hale’s.”

“It’s your crest.”

He mistook her awe for accusation. “I know. But it was all I-”

His apology was covered by her kiss. “I love it,” she breathed against his lips. “And when I get out of this contraption, I’d like to show you how much.” Her boldness stopped his heart and she must have felt his open mouth under hers, because she laughed. “But first, I have work to do.”

“Yes, my lady.” This time he was ready for her backhand to his stomach.

…..


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so as mentioned in the tags and the notes in chapter one, there IS a major character death here. But as I also mentioned, I hope that the very premise of this series (that they keep meeting, hoping one day to get it right) softens that blow a little bit. 
> 
> And a reminder: I posted the entire story at once in 3 separate chapters, so make sure you've read chapters 1 and 2 first!

…..

“That- that hit a lot harder than I thought.” 

They had helped her off the horse and shuttled her to the tent away from prying eyes. Hale, who had been left behind, excitedly asked, “So? How did it go?”

“Three straight direct hits!” Danny exclaimed. “You should have seen it! The horses were magnificent, just-” he mimed their gallop with his hands and mimicked the sound. “Then the lances- BOOOSH!”

“Breathe, Daniel,” Gibbs said. 

His face flush with excitement, he could only nod. “Yes, sir.”

“But you’re okay?” Hale asked Jack, who was still breathing heavily. 

She nodded first, then swallowed. 

“Pour her some water, would ya, Anshiri?”

He nodded at Gibbs. “Of course.”

They watched as the rivulets rolled down her chin to her throat. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said at last. “More than fine. That was incredible. The armour is amazing, Gibbs,” she told him. “The lance hit like a hammer but once I got past the shock of, well, a hammer hitting me, I was okay.”

“Good,” he said, purposely gruff. He knew the armour would hold, but seeing her on the horse, racing towards a collision had squeezed his lungs in a way he hadn’t expected. “Because you’re up again in an hour.”

“I’m ready to go right now!”

“Easy, tiger,” he said, walking her to a barrel. “Sit. Breathe. Focus.” To the others, he said, “I need the rest of you to go watch the other riders. Get some ideas of their weaknesses, their habits. Anything we can use if we gotta ride against them.”

“You think it’s okay if I go out there?” Hale asked.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” Gibbs replied. “Just make sure you’re back well before the next round.”

The three men nodded and left, and he turned to Daniel. “One way a blacksmith makes his reputation is at tournaments like this. Why don’t you see if Sir Matheson needs his armour fixed?”

The apprentice grinned. “The way Jack hit him? He’s going to need a whole new suit.”

He watched Danny leave before turning to Jack who appeared to be coming down from her adrenaline high. “‘Jack’, huh?”

“He’s a good kid,” she said.

“He’s a young man who’s found a fairer sex to pay attention to him,” Gibbs dryly corrected.

“Don’t be jealous,” she said, grinning at his eye roll. “I’m going to win this tournament for you, my fair maiden. Or whatever the opposite is.”

“Another label?”

“I’ve started a list.”

“I bet you have. _Dolcezza_.”

The word was a reminder of the source of a month’s worth of distance between them, even as it was a reminder of a closeness they shared for much longer. 

“Gibbs,” she whispered, unsure of where the conversation was going.

“‘Jethro’.”

“What?”

“Another label you can give me.”

“I can’t believe anyone would give you that label.” The twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away and her laughter echoed in the helmet he dropped unceremoniously over her head.

…..

She wasn’t laughing as much by the end of the day, though her spirits were still high even if she ached everywhere air touched her. Her friends rode on her triumphs.

“Three rounds in, three rounds out!” Hale crowed. “Just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “Maybe someone will give us a challenge tomorrow.”

“Hey!” Gibbs snapped. “People only _think_ it’s you.”

“Right, right. Sorry, Jacqueline.”

“You’re going to be sorry if you call me that again.” With the armour finally off, she rested against a bale in the corner, her legs splayed out, her head leaning back.

“Well, at risk of drawing even more ire, Sir Mattheson has been kind enough to look past the pasting we- I mean, you -gave him and has invited our party to a feast. And I’m sure I saw his daughter wink at me earlier.” He looked at his mates. “The rest of you are more than welcome to ride my coattails.”

Daniel looked at Gibbs who gave his silent permission with a nod. “But I want you to stick close to these two,” he said, pointing at King and Anshiri.

“Alone at last,” she sighed once the group had gone. Her eyes had closed and her voice had gone soft.

“I hate to move you,” he said, “but I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

One eye cracked open. “Oh?”

He grinned. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, even as she reached out for his hand.

“You’ll see.”

…..

He tied the tent doors behind him and waited for her to speak.

“Wow,” was all she said.

Her private tent was smaller than the mens’, which made the steam and scent fill it to every corner. Candles had been lit to make up for the sun going down, and it bathed the tent in amber. But it was the copper tub in the middle of the space that caught her eye.

“How did you-?”

“Nine solid victories today gets the reward.” He stood just behind her, unsure of where to put his hands. “Geoffrey asked me if my knight wanted to accept the offer of his lord. I said yes.”

“How did you convince him to put it in my tent?” 

“I told him it was for my lady.”

The confession was spoken so softly that it was only when she turned to look at him that she realized what he had said.

“Is that what I am? Your lady?”

“Are we back to labels again?”

“You don’t like words, do you?”

His hand went into her hair. “More of an action guy myself.”

“I figured.”

His mouth caught whatever else she had intended on saying, allowing nothing more than a small moan to escape. It was the first time _he_ had kissed _her_ , and it had none of the playfulness, none of the tease. It was a kiss with intent and more than a little possession and she leaned full against him, accepting and relenting. His low collar bunched in her fists, pulling them impossibly closer, arching her head back when his mouth went exploring. His free hand yanked her belt free, loosening her tunic, and his other hand joined in, lifting the garment over her head. His eyes held hers, even when it was obvious they wished to be elsewhere.

“You can look. My king.” His eyes went stormy grey and she couldn’t help but smirk. “Now _there’s_ a label you like.” The tease died in her throat when his hands covered her breasts and his mouth covered hers. It was only when he felt her hands on his belt that he stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Not a damn thing,” he sighed against her lips. “But your bath’s gettin’ cold.”

She looked over her shoulder then back to him. “You’ll be here when the bath’s gone?”

“That was quick,” he said. “Already traded up for somethin’ better.” Seeing her small pout, he relented, as if he hadn’t planned on it all along. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Good,” she said, “you can help me finish getting undressed. What?” she asked, not as innocent as she pretended. “I’m quite sore.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied. “I might need to use that water once it gets cold.”

“Oh, I hope not.”

…..

It had taken her several minutes to ease herself into the hot, hot water, and every inch was more tortuous than the last for Gibbs. The candles bathed her in golden light and shadows that both revealed and teased. She sighed once the water came up to her neck. 

“This is heaven.”

“Yep.” He was sitting on a stool just high enough for him to be envious of the water that touched her everywhere his hands desired. He lazily drew his fingers through the water, cupping some in his palm and letting it drip onto her shoulder. The easy rhythm was just as soothing to him as it was to her, and the only thing that kept his eyes open was the need to look at her. 

“It’s too bad this isn’t big enough for two,” she lamented.

“Next time, I’ll get the king’s bath.” She moaned in a way that made his body go tight, and the only thing that stopped him from replying in kind when her arms came up to lift the hair from the nape of her neck was the soft wince she gave. Frowning, he asked, “Where does it hurt?”

“Besides everywhere?”

His eyes narrowed at her sarcasm, and instead of waiting for clarification, they lasered in on her left shoulder. The water distorted his vision and he had to squint to search for an injury. “Same spot as before?” he asked, reminding her of their first meeting. She nodded. Unable to see a bruise, he gently lowered and raised her left arm until she sharply inhaled. “It’s deeper than your muscle,” he said. “I don’t like it.”

“It’ll heal just like it did the last time.”

“You’ve got 2 more rounds tomorrow. That’s not a lot of time.”

Her smile raised up to him. “So you _do_ think I can win this,” she said, noting how he’d referenced both rounds. Seeing his frown remain, she assured him, “There will be plenty of time for it to heal once this is all over. I promise.”

Her word assuaged his concern, though he still pressed his fingers to her throat and counted her heartbeats. “Still too fast.”

“It’s the hot water,” she said. “Or maybe it’s the man.”

Her flirtations hit the mark and he smirked. “Maybe?”

“Possibly?”

“Probably.”

She flicked water at him in retaliation and when he returned it in kind, she protested. “Don’t waste my good water!”

…..

That ‘good water’ became cold, and he caught her shiver. 

“Let’s get you out of there before you become a prune.”

“Do you flatter all women like that?”

“Nope. Just you.”

There was teasing to his tone, but also something deeper, something more possessive. Standing in the cool air, he watched the goosebumps form over her body, and he stood with her, wrapping a nearby towel over her shoulders. As she stepped out of the large tub, she leaned into arms that were warm and inviting. His tunic was unexpectedly soft against her skin and she molded herself to his body. His reaction was a soft moan that vibrated against her cheek and a tightening of his hands around her waist.

With a tease she couldn’t resist, she slipped her hand down between them and said, “What a big lance you have, Blacksmith.”

“I’m 2 seconds away from throwing you over my shoulder,” he warned.

“Oh, yes, please!” She laughed against his throat before softly whispering in his ear. “Take me to bed. Jethro.”

…..

Daniel was gracious enough not to say anything when Gibbs entered the tent at sunrise, though his face said it all.

“Danny,” Gibbs said in a low voice that was a greeting as well as an ending.

“Sir.” He maintained his straight face for another second before bursting into laughter, and Gibbs, try as he might, couldn’t help but join in. 

“Not a word.”

“No, sir. Except to say, I’m glad.”

Gibbs softened his glare. “Me, too.” Grabbing some bread and honey, he asked, “How’d last night go?”

“Me an’ Sam stayed out of trouble, but we might need to look for Raymond and Safwan.”

Gibbs groaned. “Fine. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then go see if you can find them. I checked the board- Jack rides at 9.” 

Danny nodded and left, leaving Gibbs to think about just how glad he was.

…..

While the men celebrated another victory, Gibbs took her aside in the tent and asked, “Jack?”

The round had gone as expected -perhaps even better, as she unhorsed the rider in the first pass, thus making the other 2 passes moot. But she knew something was wrong when the lance struck her, and by the look on his face, he knew it, too.

“Nothing,” she said, even though she knew he wouldn’t believe her. To bolster her claim, she added, “That arm’s still sore, that’s all.” 

“Danny, help me with this,” he said as he began removing the shoulder piece.

The young man jumped right in to help, careful and mindful, and Jack smiled at him.

“You’ll make a good husband one day.” Gibbs snorted and she chastized him with a look. “Be nice to him.”

“Yes, my lady,” he drolled, though he couldn’t quite hide the warmth in his address.

The pieces now off, he pulled down the collar of her tunic low enough to still be modest. “Where does it hurt?” he asked as he searched her shoulder and breastbone for injury.

“Nowhere,” she said. Seeing the impatience bloom across his face, she said, “I’m not lying, Gibbs. It doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t like it.” 

“I’m not over the moon about it either.” 

“We need to forfeit.”

Her laughter at the thought died in her throat when she realized he was serious. “We do not need to forfeit.”

“I’m gonna go talk to Geoffrey,” he said, as if she hadn’t just told him the opposite.

She grabbed his arm when he tried to pass. “You forfeit this and I will take your blacksmith tongs and shove them so far up your-” Daniel’s gasp stopped the rest of the warning in its tracks. “I’m not joking, Jethro.” Daniel’s second gasp seemed to bring a calm to the room. “Please,” she said softer. “We’ve come so far. One more round and it’ll be over and we can all go home.” 

The word dulled his edges and he sighed. “Danny, get the peppermint. We’ll see if that works.”

“You had that the entire time?” she asked, knowing the healing properties of the oil.

“Figured you’d like the bath better,” he said with a shrug.

Her mouth twitched at the memory. “I did like the bath better.”

For the second time in less than 5 minutes, Daniel’s face went redder than a blacksmith’s fire.

…..

She didn’t tell him that the peppermint relieved the symptoms of whatever was ailing her, even though she knew he suspected, and in the end, his touch as he rubbed the liniment into her shoulder and chest soothed her more than the oil ever could.

“You smell nice,” Hale said as they helped her put the armour back on.

Shooting the man a dagger with his eyes, Gibbs said, “You’re gonna need to suit up. We’ll have a minute, maybe two once she’s done before they’ll wanna present the prizes. You’ll need to be ready.”

Hale nodded. “Understood.”

“Just think,” Anshiri said, watching Gibbs go over the last minute details, “less than 30 minutes and this will all be over. Seems like we’ve been waiting forever. Is it wrong that I’m already thinking about a garden in Devonshire?”

Jack smiled. “No, it’s not wrong at all.” She rested her heavy hand on his shoulder. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me.” She looked at the group. “We all have. But I want you to know, I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else but you guys.” She held their gazes and her tears. Saving her last look for Gibbs, she soaked up his blue, troubled eyes. “Say it again,” she whispered.

He didn’t have to be told what she meant. “ _Dolcezza_.”

She carefully folded the word and placed it in her heart before saying, “I’m ready.”

…..

He knew from the minute he had helped her onto the horse. Saw it in the way she gave him one final look through the slot in the helmet. Felt it when she slouched in her saddle, even as her lance unhorsed her opponent. He had the advantage of his gut, but he was the last one to move.

“Something’s wrong.” Anshiri was the first to speak and the first to run. King and Daniel were right behind him.

“Gibbs!” Hale yelled from the horse’s entrance. 

His name, both a plea and a command, finally got his feet moving, and his sprint was so fast, so desperate, that he almost beat the other 3 to her.

“Get her off the horse!” he shouted, reaching up for her lifeless arm. King grabbed the reins and brought the horse still. Despite the armour, she barely weighed anything in his arms as he lowered her to the ground. With trembling fingers, he tried to unclasp the helmet, and it was Danny who brought a sense of calm. 

“I’ve got it, sir.”

He didn’t hear the murmurs in the crowd when her helmet was removed and her gender revealed. He didn’t hear the keening wail from Samuel, nor the sob from Danny. Hale’s galloping charge to them was a silent run, and Anshiri’s angry yell was barely a whisper. In fact, he didn’t hear anything at all. Nothing except her sigh.

“My king.” Her smile was weak but only for him.

“Do not leave me,” he ordered. “You do not leave me.” His hands bracketed her face. “Please.”

“I have a feeling we don’t ever really leave each other.”

Her eyes held his before looking up into the sky. When he buried his head in the crook of her neck, he was overwhelmed by the sweet smell of mint.

…..

-end.


End file.
